


I Think I Really Hate Your Guts (But I don't)

by RaviJane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Complete, Dean hates Cas, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, No Smut, Sexuality Crisis, Teasing, They're actually being cuties, happy!Cas, he believes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2495135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaviJane/pseuds/RaviJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hates his new co-worker. He doesn't know why, but he does. So why does he agree to getting dinner with him? Maybe that happy person revives a thought in him he'd always tried to forget. [Office!AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I Really Hate Your Guts (But I don't)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caslikesthemaccarena](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Caslikesthemaccarena).



> Well hello if you're readng this! I'm sorry this isn't as smutty as my last work, but maybe you'll enjoy some of this too ^.^

Sometimes there are people in your life that you can't help but hate. They don't do anything in particular that annoys you, it's only their mere existence that makes you furious. It was the same with Dean and his new co-worker. First off, it was his name. Who'd call their poor kid _Castiel_? The guy was a little older than him and it annoyed Dean that because he was older and had a better position, he seemed to think he could boss him around. Only that he didn't really boss him around. Dean was only looking for the reason why he hated his guts. He often found himself staring at him, looking for flaws, and it was then that he realised that the reason was exactly that. Cas (he didn't want to say that thirteenthousand syllable name every darn time) had no flaws. He was clever, good-looking, friendly, empathetic, funny and seemed to have a good taste in music. Plus he was a good writer, persuasive and loyal to his friends (that was at least what Sam had said, as well as Naomi and Uri (whose whole name sounded vaguely like Castiel's). Dean himself was grumpy, self-righteous and cynic, not to say bitter and aggressive. So no, he didn't like perfect people. They gave him the creeps. So while Dean was unhappily chewing his salad (his mum, yeah, right, _his mum_ had decided her 31-year-old son was not getting enough vitamins, so she placed a salad on his doorstep every morning), Cas came in, obviously on the phone, talking cheerily to a customer. “Why, yes of course we do! No, no, thank _you_ , Ma'am. Yes. We're always happy to help”. He turned around and grinned at Dean, a little too wide for his taste. “People here are so nice. My old company had the worst customers”. He just nodded. Damn, it was lunch break. What kind of workaholic was that guy? “Hey, do you mind showing me a place for dinner tonight? See, I'm new in town, as you know, and I was looking for a nice place”. Now that caught Dean's attention. Food was good. “Well, depends on what you need. Going out with the wife?”. Somehow, Cas made a funny face at that. “No, not quite. Uh, I'm going alone. Preferably something, well, not too healthy. I have a thing for red meat”. He shot a look at the leafy greens Dean was mushing in the Styrofoam bowl. “In that case, I'd be glad to help. Meet me at the station at 8?”. the words had left his mouth before he'd thought them through and his brain was yelling at him. Why had he stopped hating the guy all of a sudden? “Great. I'm really looking forwards to that”. With those words and the smile still stuck to his lips, he sat down and started replying mails, while all Dean could do was stare.

“Why are you making such a fuss out of it? God damn it, it's not a date!”, Dean yelled at himself while shimmying out of the third shirt he'd put on and put on a dress shirt he hardly ever wore because it was wine red, but today it somehow looked really good. He accidentally took a look on his alarm clock and cursed again because he was running late. So he stormed into the kitchen, grabbed his car keys, slipped on some boots and jumped in his car. 

Cas was already awaiting him when he finally arrived. The elder didn't seem to own a car, he usually went by bike or walked, but honestly, New York was not a city you needed a car in. “Hey”, Dean called out, “Need a ride?”. Cas smiled and opened the passenger side's door. “Hello, Dean”. Suddenly, his mouth was dry and his hands were sweaty. It was like Cas had taken up all the oxygen in the car. What the hell was going on?

“So, believe me, they're selling the absolute best burgers here. And it's not even expensive”, Dean told him and took a sip of his coke. They had both ordered Today's Special and fries, due to Dean telling him everything in this place was good. They were talking about their lives (both single, both some sort of lazy, both like cars and classic rock) and enjoyed their burgers when they came and Dean had to admit that it had been one of his best evenings so far. And that even though he hated Cas. Except not really. He couldn't help but watch the sparkle in those blue eyes dance and count the dimples on his cheeks and admire his hair and – damn. What was that? He was sex-deprived was all, nothing else. He'd just got to know Cas better and liked him more than before. All logical, all easy. All platonic.

“So, uh, thank you for that beautiful evening. I really enjoyed it”. Cas didn't sound feminine at all despite his use of the b-word. Not manly actually. “Well, yea, me too, buddy”. Dean gave him a short back rub (all platonic) and waved him goodbye. And _of course_ he waited until Cas had got safely inside, he didn't want his friend to be attacked or locked out. Everything had been so normal and platonic that Dean searched the next strip club and got inside to see women dancing and undressing. Because he liked women. Period. Still, he gave most of the money he spent there to a lady with short black hair and bright blue eyes. And when he got home and decided to jerk off, he was not thinking about a female.

He started to see Cas in a different light after that evening; talking to him was not an obstacle anymore and the burgers or occasionally salad or drinks after work became a routine. They got to know each other better and better and he was in Dean's head more frequently. They were in a bar tonight because it was Friday after all and Dean had just smiled at the waiter, giving him a 2$ tip. “Did you just flirt with him?”, Cas asked, looking after the – you guess it – dark-haired waiter with bright eyes. “What, no!”, Dean tried to chuckle, but it sounded more like a cough. “Well, I wouldn't mind. Remember when you asked me about going out with my wife? I'd never have one. I am not into women. Sorry if this shocks you now and in case you want to shoot me or beat me up, don't worry, I've been through that”. It was silent for a minute. Dean had never seen his friend this serious and even though he would always deny it, he had to fight the urge to call up the suckers that had hurt Cas and beat the living hell out of them. “I don't mind”, he finally said, “Because recently, I've been trying to come to terms with my own...bisexuality”. He had expected everything, from a shocked expression to a warm smile to a laugh, but what he got was none of the above. “Ha, I knew it”, Cas said with the dirtiest grin Dean had ever seen on anyone. “And I betcha have a crush”. He lost all colour in his face. Had he really noticed it? “Because”, he explained, “You've been angry for a long time and since like, two months ago, you've been far more sincere. So I guess you've found someone that makes you happy, huh?”. Dean thought about it. He smiled when he thought about their evenings, already in the mornings. He thought about what things he could give Cas for his birthday. He looked forwards to seeing him everday in the office and was annoyed when he wasn't. So yes, basically, he had found someone. “Yeah, I guess”, he said and looked into his beer before gulping the rest down. Cas' foot nudged his calf and he jumped, making the table clatter. The elder smirked at him, pretending to be oblivious, even though he really wasn't.

The next day, Dean and his coffee made it to his bureau a little too late. He had hardly slept that night, so caught up in the question whether to ask Cas out or not. His office was empty, all that was there was a note scribbled on sticky paper glued to the screen of his computer. Dean gulped when he read it.

_Believe me, I know. My place at eight? Bring beer_.

Dean looked up, sort of like in slow motion and the very first thought in his mind was along the lines of, What do I wear?

The rest of the day was absolutely terrible. Cas smacked his butt in the printing room, causing Dean to throw over a cup of coffee and spill it on the printer. Then he poked his neck in the cafeteria, making him shudder and toss his phone off the table in the process. And the absolute worst was the grin on his face, constantly saying, _I know_. And Dean cursed at himself for letting it all touch him in an inappropriate way.

Little did he know that that night, he'd get his first real functioning relationship and a sore butt.


End file.
